THE RUBBER HITS THE ROAD
Willow
“How are things with Tara?” inquired Willow’s counselor. “You missed your last appointment because you were at her father’s funeral?”
“Yes, Aunt Joyce and I drove her to where she grew up, after helping her figure out how to get her father’s body to there.”
“How was that?”
“How was what?” asked Willow.
“How was it to go with Joyce and Tara to Tara’s childhood home? Her father’s funeral? Everything,” replied the counselor.
“It was hard. It was hard seeing Tara upset. It was hard having to deal with seeing her home. One good thing is that now I have a context into which to put her stories. I can see them more vividly. I saw the place that he threw her against, I now can imagine what little Tara must have experienced. I don’t like it. I tried to be supportive and helpful and positive, but I felt so angry most of the time. When I saw him in the casket, I just wanted to hit him. When I heard the people whispering about Tara and the situation, I wanted to scream and yell at them. I wanted to tell them in explicit detail what he and Donny had done to Tara. I didn’t want to hear anything good about him. I wanted them to have to acknowledge that he was a monster.”
“It sounds like you were/are really angry. What did you do with all that anger, all those feelings?”
“I swallowed them.”
“How did they sit in your stomach?”
“Ok, I guess. It is not a strange feeling. I get angry a lot. I swallow a lot.
“You throw up a lot.”
“I don’t purge anymore.”
“What do you do with the anger you swallow now? Restrict?”
“I don’t restrict anymore either. It just goes away. I just don’t think about it. You know, I was angry at her father and brother already. Did I tell you that her father’s lawyers made her talk to her brother. Well, they didn’t make her, but they put her in a situation that was hard to say ‘no’ to. I wanted to scream at him too. I wanted to ask how he dared think that he should expect her to accept her apology. How he could NOW realize what an awful brother he was to her. He sounded so pitiful and remorseful. He seemed to be wanting her forgiveness. ‘I should have protected you’. That is such bullshit. I am so glad that she didn’t give it to him. He doesn’t deserve it. He should die too without her forgiveness.”
“Those are so strong feelings. Are you sure that all of this anger is really directed at Tara’s father and brother?”
“Who else would they be directed at?” asked Willow.
“Your father?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think that I am angry with my father.”
“We haven’t talked a lot about your father. It is always your mother, or your parents as an entity, never just your father.”
“There is not much to say. He’s usually quiet, does what my mom wants, supports her and her views. Sometimes, if she was being really irrational, he’d confront her, but that wasn’t very often. I guess I talk about my parents as a unit, because that is what he is to me, a unit with my mother.”
“So, he didn’t protect you.”
“Protect me from what?”
“Protect you from Carly, from your mother.”
“He didn’t know.”
He didn’t really care. Nobody really cared.“He didn’t know what?”
“He didn’t know about Carly. He didn’t know what my mom said. He always heard it from her perspective, he always believed her.”
“Did you ever try to tell him?”
“About Carly?”
“No, about how you felt about things your mother said, things she did, things she wanted you to do that you didn’t want to do.”
“No, it wasn’t worth it. He always sided with mom.”
“That must have been lonely. Not feeling like you had any adult in your corner.”
“I didn’t need an adult in my corner. I was fine,” asserted Willow with a belligerent voice tone.
Yeah, Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional.“Nope, younger Willow didn’t need anyone did she? She was independent, she was smart, she didn’t need anyone. She still doesn’t, does she? How about Joyce? Do you need her? What about Tara? Have you talked to her about what’s been bothering you, your worries, your concerns, what you want?”
That is a low blow buddy “How can I do that if I don’t know.” Replied Willow, she paused, “I don’t need Joyce or Tara, but I want them. I want them a lot. But I can’t need them. You know that. I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“I just can’t.”
If I need them, they will go away. If I need them, they will have power over me and can hurt me. Isn’t our time up? Isn’t it time to go. Willow looked frantically around the room for the clock.
“We still have 10 minutes.”
“I have to get to class.”
“We have 10 minutes.” Said the counselor in a stern voice. “How are things with Tara?”
“Good.”
I can handle this. I can talk about this. “We don’t see each other very much. I’ve been busy at school. But I’ve started staying over sometimes. When we got home from the funeral, she asked me to stay. She said she’d gotten used to listening to my snoring and it helped put her to sleep. The same is for her. I sleep much better when I am with her.”
“But you don’t need her.”
Get off the need kick buddy, need…want…what was my mother always saying when I said that I needed something. ‘No Willow, you want that, you don’t need that. All of your needs are met. You have a roof over your head, food available, you are physically safe, that’s all you need. We meet all of your needs.’ “I CAN sleep on my own. I just CHOOSE to sleep with her. Because I WANT TO.” Willow found herself wanting to stand up. The urge to run away was strong.
“Hit a nerve, eh?”
I have got to turn this around. He is getting too close. “Oh, wonderful counselor, you are probably feeling all proud of yourself. Tell your supervisor, tell your class “oh, I got to my anorexic, I made her react. I got her angry. Aren’t I wonderful, aren’t I great. I am so glad the semester is almost over.”
“You want to get rid of me.” He paused, “Is that really what you think. I’m just trying to get a reaction so I can boast to my supervisor, my classmates. It can’t be because I want to help you, it can’t be because I care. It is because I want to use you.”
Willow took several calming breaths. It was time to wrap herself up again. She’d let her guard down and it hadn’t gone well. “I am sorry I got so upset. I am sure you think what you are doing is going to help me. I am sure that you think that you care about me. But I am coming here because I want to stay in school. I have to do it, and now I have to leave to get to my next class. Goodbye.”
Willow stood up and left the room and walked down the hall and out of the building.
It was lunch time, but she felt sick to her stomach. I’ll just eat a big dinner tonight.
***
The anger that she ‘swallowed’ continued to rumble around her stomach for the rest of the day. Several times, she found herself getting irritated in class, and she had even snapped at one of the other research assistants in the lab. Fortunately, the girl accepted her apology and the lie that it was “that time of the month”. Willow was still feeling irritated and angry when she got home. She questioned whether she should just go to her own room and go to sleep with the hope that there would be a hard reset or go to Tara’s and either talk to her or just go into the bliss of limerence. The light was still on in Tara’s front room, so Willow chose to go upstairs.
It can’t always be happiness and kitties. She climbed up the stairs, knocked once, and walked into the apartment. Tara had been asleep on the couch but woke up with a start when Willow opened the door. “Oh, sorry sweetie. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It is ok. I didn’t know that I’d fallen asleep. I was trying to stay awake to see you.”
“It is fine. You don’t have to wait up. I can go home if you just want to sleep.” Willow turned back toward the door.
“No, don’t go. I want to see you. I just took a little nap. What time is it? “ Tara sat up on the couch.
Willow looked at her watch, “It’s a little after 9.”
“Did you eat dinner?” asked Tara.
“I stopped at the cafeteria.” Willow sat down next to Tara on the couch.
“That’s good. So how was your day?”
“Eh. I had therapy, and my therapist made me really angry. I am so glad I only have to see him two more times.”
“What did he say?” inquired Tara.
“He wanted to talk about my father and other stuff…uncomfortable stuff.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“It is complicated. I don’t really want to talk about it right now. I just feel off balance. Part of me wants to tell you about it, but the other part just wants to get Tara snuggles. I don’t like this feeling. I was tempted to just go to my bed and do a hard reset, but I saw your light on and couldn’t resist coming up.
“I am glad you did. I like to see you every night.”
“Even if I am irritable and grumpy? This is a happy place. I don’t want to ruin it with my angry feelings.”
Tara laughed. “I actually was talking to my therapist about something similar, about how we sort of have Willow/Tara land where everything is relaxed and comfy. She said that we have to push our comfort zone and allow other feelings so the relationship can grow.”
“Do you feel like we are stagnating? Are you unhappy? What did you say to your therapist that made her say that.” Willow began to panic.
Tara put her arm around Willow. “No sweetie, I am really happy with the way things are going in our relationship. I love Willow/Tara land too, but by not sharing the good and the bad about what is going on, we aren’t giving the relationship the fertilizer it needs to grow.”
“We have to shit all over the relationship to make it grow? Ugh.”
“Metaphorically, I guess.” Tara yawned. “Do you want to tell me about what made you angry?”
“Do you want to tell me how this topic came up in your therapy?”
“Not really.”
“Me either, I just want Tara snuggles.”
“I guess we can start fertilizing the relationship garden tomorrow, when we don’t have to face work and school.”
“That sounds good, let’s go to bed and snuggle. Tara got up and walked to the bedroom.
Willow put down her bookbag, took off her shoes and went into the bathroom. She’d left a pair of her pajamas on the floor, so she quickly changed into them, brushed her teeth and went to Tara’s bedroom. Tara was walking around her bedroom picking up clothes.
“Well, I’m glad that I didn’t put those in the wash.” Said Tara gesturing to the shorts and tee-shirt that Willow was wearing.
“You’d just have to give me some of yours or I’d have to run to my house and get some.”
“What is mine is yours sweetie. I am tired. Let’s get snuggling before I fall asleep on you.”
“That would be ok. I am sleepy too.”
Actually, I am not tired, but I want my Tara snuggles before she falls asleep.
Tara lay down and Willow fit herself into Tara’s body in her favorite spooning position. Just breathe and relax. Tara put her hand on Willow’s belly under her shirt. She whispered, “Soft Willow skin.” Tara kissed Willow’s neck and Willow turned to kiss her. As they were kissing, Willow’s stomach rumbled loudly.
“It sounds like your belly is hungry?”
“It’s ok.”
Her stomach rumbled again. “I think your stomach says differently. I’ve got some stuff in the fridge I could make you.”
“You’re sleepy. I am good.” Willow reached for Tara, her stomach gurgled loudly again.
Tara sat up and said, “Willow, honestly, when was the last time you ate. Your stomach doesn’t usually rumble.” She stopped, thinking about the earlier conversation. “Did you really have dinner at the cafeteria? You said that you stopped at the cafeteria…” Tara paused, realizing that Willow may have been playing with words. “Willow what is going on. Are you relapsing? Tara looked at Willow. Willow could not meet her eyes.
Tara stood up and walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. “I am going to get you something to eat.” Willow followed her and sat down at the table.
“It’s not that I am relapsing. I just couldn’t eat today. My therapist made me so mad I felt nauseated, so I skipped lunch, and then when I went to the cafeteria, nothing looked good.”
“That is how it starts.” Tara went looked into the refrigerator and found some turkey and bread. She took both out and began making Willow a sandwich. “You get upset, you don’t eat, and it starts the cycle.” Tara paused and finished making the sandwich. She put it down in front of Willow and sat down across from her. “Willow talk to me. What is going on?”
“It was just a rough session, Tare. I promise, I’ve been eating regularly, this is the first time in a long time that I haven’t eaten.”
“When was the last time you ate? I want to believe you, but that sneaky play on language to make me think you ate really bothers me.”
“I’m sorry, habit, I guess. The last time I ate was this morning when I grabbed an apple and a granola bar out of the kitchen. Please believe me; I am telling the truth. Things are going so well right now, why would I take a chance to blow it. I’ve got you. I’ve got Joyce. I’m about to get my BA and get to immediately start my Ph.D. work. Sure, I felt angry today, but generally, things are good. You don’t have to worry about me. I’m OK.” Willow took a bite of the sandwich. “How was your day?”
“You are trying to change the topic.”
“Maybe, but I can’t eat and talk at the same time. Tell me about your day.”
“It was same old, same old. Two and three-year-old kids continue to be interesting little people. I feel like I am always going to the bathroom though. Potty training is not fun.”
“I can imagine. Did you do the “Days of the Week” set to the Adam’s Family theme today?”
“Every day. That song sometimes just pops into my head when I am in the shower. Did I ever tell you that Ba Ba Black Sheep, the ABC song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star are all the same song?”
Willow started silently singing the songs to check. “They are. Who knew?”
“Me”
Willow finished the sandwich and put the paper plate in the garbage.
“Thanks for taking care of me, sweetie. I will try really hard to not let my old habits rear their ugly head. It’s so easy to just slip back…does it happen to you?” Willow sat down across from Tara at the table. She could see Tara thinking.
“Sometimes, but I don’t think it is as hard for me. It’s not like I have to face my urge to cut three times a day like you have to eat. It was hard when I was home. When I was going through my room, I found a lot of things that I had hidden. I thought about it, but then I thought how disappointed you’d be, or how upset Joyce might get, and I pushed the urge away.”
“I guess I should have been doing that today. I’m sorry. I just got so angry, and as I explained to my counselor, I am so used to swallowing my anger. He confronted me on my choice of words, and I had to face again that anger and my eating disorder go hand in hand. I just want it to go away.”
“You know that the eating disorder is going to be right around the corner until you deal with what is underneath it.”
“I don’t think that I am totally aware of what is underneath it. Sure, I’ve figured out some things, but why do I feel angry so often. Why is it so easy for me to just stop eating. I think that this is just who I am. I don’t know if I can change."
“Sweetie, you are only eighteen. I know that dealing with stuff is hard, thinking about change is hard. You are pretty good at hiding your feelings." Tara put her arm around Willow and waited to see if she had anything to say about this comment. When it was clear that there was not going to be an answer, she asked “What were you talking about in therapy, your Dad? It never seemed that when you talk about your dad to me, that you’re angry at him. Now your mom, when you talk about her, I can sense some anger. Were you talking about your dad because you were talking about the trip to Bishop?”
“Sort of, I was talking about how angry I felt when you had to talk to your brother, and how angry I felt when I heard people making comments against you. I tried to be calm for you. To be there for you, but inside I was seething. I wanted to scream.”
“Really? You seemed so calm and composed during the funeral. I could tell you were annoyed by the lawyers springing the phone call on me. But seething, screaming. I didn’t know. I am sorry. You could have talked to me about it?”
Willow jumped up off the couch. “Your perpetrator father had just died, you’d had to go home and go back to where you’d been abused, you had to organize a funeral, you’d had to be reminded of all the bad things that happened in that town, and go to your mom’s grave. I didn’t want to add anything to your burden. I wanted to help. It wasn’t about me. It was about you.”
Tara motioned to Willow to sit back down on the couch. “It’s easier when things are not about me. I like it better when things are focused on others.”
“I know you do, and I worry that I sometimes use that to my advantage to have your focus on me. I like when you focus on me. It makes me feel cared for.”
“Ditto.” Tara yawned, “I am sorry. I’d kind of like to keep up this conversation, but I am really tired.”
“Do you want me to stay or go?” asked Willow.
“Stay. Let’s go back to cuddling now that your stomach is full.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Tara
Tara could sense the energy coming off Willow. It was clear that the red-haired girl was not even close to being sleepy. Tara began rubbing Willow’s head, willing the tension to be released, thinking positive, loving thoughts to calm the smaller girl down. She struggled through her own drowsiness and when she felt Willow begin to relax, she slowed her hands. Tara fell asleep with her hand on Willow head.
Tara awoke several hours later to find that Willow was no longer there. Tara tried to stifle the disappointment but figured that Willow’s overactive mind had taken control and she’d left. Tara got up and went to the bathroom. She was surprised to see Willow asleep on the couch, the lights on and a book on her stomach. She argued with herself about whether she should or should not wake her sleeping beauty. Tara knew that the couch was not the most comfortable sleeping arrangement and knew that Willow would be able to sleep better in either her own or Tara’s bed.
“Hey sweetie, why don’t you come back to bed,” whispered Tara in Willow’s ear.
Willow stretched, one eye open, “I was awake, and you were asleep, and I was awake, so I came here, and now I was asleep.”
“Yes, you were asleep. Why don’t you walk with me back to bed and you can be asleep again.”
“You are awake now and I am asleep?” asked Willow.
“We are both awake and need to be asleep. Come back to bed.”
Tara took Willow’s hand and led her back to the bedroom. She pulled back the covers and made room for Willow to lay down. Tara went to the other side of the bed, got in and spooned Willow who was already gently snoring. Tara snuggled in and fell back to sleep.
*****
All through the next day, the conversation with Willow kept playing in her mind. Willow/Tara land was so nice. Why did they need to ruin it with the issues of the real world. Tara was concerned that Willow had been stuffing so many feelings. In all of the time that she’d known Willow, she had not noticed that she was angry a lot. It usually seemed that Willow was content and levelheaded. It made Tara realize that she didn’t know Willow as well as she thought she did. Willow was very good at deflecting issues. She would change the subject or come up with some reason not to share what was really going on with her. She often used her intelligence as a defense; a way to keep other’s at bay. If Tara thought hard about it, Willow gave off little hints of what was really going on, but rarely did she give details.
I am going to have to ask more pointed questions. It is not going to be pretty. They had both accepted an invitation to eat at Joyce’s. After work, Tara went home, showered and then joined her two favorite people in the kitchen.
“What can I do to help?” Tara looking at the food on the counter.
“The usual salad would be good. I bought some baby greens, strawberries and gorgonzola cheese at the market. The strawberries were priced like gold, but they looked good,” replied Joyce.
Tara picked up the fruit and saw that they were bright red and unblemished. “I hope they taste as good as they look.”
Tara took the salad greens, washed them, and put them in a bowl. She added the cheese, and then grabbed some pecans to add a crunch to the salad.
Meanwhile, Willow was sitting at the counter watching her aunt cook. This is frequently the way things are.
Willow is in the kitchen, but she rarely is the cook. She always volunteers to wash the dishes, so I guess it is a fair division of labor.
“How was your day Tara,” queried Joyce.
“Pretty good. How was yours?”
“Busy, but productive. I was glad that it is Friday. I am ready to relax. Do you girls have any plans?”
Tara and Willow looked at each other. “Well, I have my usual homework and lab work to do Saturday, but I am hoping that Sunday can be totally free.” Willow looked at Tara.
“Sounds like lesson plans on Saturday and hanging with my GF Sunday. How about you Joyce. Any hot dates this weekend,” commented Tara.
Willow choked on the water she was drinking. “Aunt Joyce, are you dating someone? Is there a secret fellow?”
“Tara always asks me that on Fridays, and my answer remains the same. No hot or cold dates for me. I haven’t met anyone that I was interested in dating in a long time.”
“I should set you up with Professor Giles. He is single, has a good job, and is not bad looking.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need my niece setting me up.”
“Well, the offer stands. Just say the word.”
Joyce put the food on the counter, and Willow brought it over to the table.
“This smells delicious Aunt Joyce. Thanks for inviting us over. I’ve not been eating as well as I should this week.” She looked over at Tara.
“Yeah, seems the stress of school and life has taken our redhead’s appetite away. We have to keep an eye on her.”
“What is going on Willow, what’s gotten you so stressed out?” asked Joyce.
“Same old, same old, dealing with the demons of the past. My therapist was asking me about Ira. He thought some of my comments and vehemence about Tara’s dad was misplaced. He was trying to get me to talk about my anger at Dad.”
Tara listened wondering if Willow was going to spontaneously talk about what had her upset the night before. The three women sat down to dinner and started eating.
“Are you angry at your father Willow?” inquired Joyce. “I know that your mother gets your goat, but I always thought that you and Ira got along pretty well.”
“I really don’t want to go into it. So, I heard that the weather is supposed to be really nice this weekend.”
“Seriously Willow, you are going to try to change the topic by talking about the weather,” commented Tara.
Willow sighed. “What do you want to know? How do I feel about my dad, my parents? They are my parents. I was so mad at them for bringing me to Boston that I threatened the doctors at the program with a lawsuit if they told them that I had even left. They’ve done what the signed up for. I made it to 18, I am graduating from college. I’ve pretty much done all that they wanted, except of course, that little problem of not dating a nice Jewish boy; of being a lesbian.”
“Do you really think your parents care that much about that? They always had gay colleagues. I don’t remember your mother ever having a problem with gay people,” commented Joyce.
“I think that anyone else in the world other than their daughter could be gay. Ever since I came out, I feel like I am just a big disappointment. I wasn’t what they expected when they adopted me. As I’ve said before, I think they believed that they could mold me into a little them, but I’m just not them. Speaking of them, have you heard from them lately? Do they even wonder where I am?”
“Your mother called a few weeks ago. You know that you are not going to be able to avoid them forever. She told me that you were still in Boston and finishing your degree.”
“I know I will have to deal with them sometime, just not now. But she seriously lied, said I was in Boston. Maybe she thinks I am. I don’t know. How did you keep from telling her that she was full of shit?”
“It was hard, but I promised you that I wouldn’t tell her anything, so I just listened to her prattle on about her research and their latest plans for a trip. It made me very aware of how superficial our relationship has become.”
“Superficial, that it a great explanation of how my mother interacts with others, including me. I think the only person that she doesn’t have a superficial relationship with is my father. I think that he is the only important person to her. You know, there was never any room for me. It was always them and me, there was never an us.” Willow paused, “No wonder I always felt bad and angry, I was in an adversarial relationship with my own family. I always felt alone. It sucked/it sucks. How can they not care where I am?”
Joyce looked at Willow. “I don’t know what to say, kiddo. Maybe for your first fourteen years, you didn’t think that anyone cared, but I want you to see now that I care, and I will always care. I have always cared about you. I just didn’t know that you needed to know it.”
“I know it now, and I am trying to believe that you really mean in. It seems that you want me around. You don’t seem to see me as a burden. After my heart attack, my mother made it quite clear that I was a burden to you and that you were quite happy relinquish responsibility back to them.”
“They said that to you?” Joyce was aghast.
“In so many words, yes.”
“Willow, you’ve got to believe me. I wanted to fight tooth and nail with them, but they had the power; they were your legal guardians. I wasn’t even a blood relative. Their comments were always vague, and they always said that everything was going ‘well’ and you were happy; I believed them, I drank the Rosenberg Kool Aid.”
“Actually, I am sure it is the seltzer water. My mother would never let me drink Kool Aid. She said that it was just sugar and would make me fat. I didn’t get to eat any of the normal kid foods. No animal crackers, no popsicles. They wouldn’t even let me eat chicken nuggets. She thought that broiled or baked chicken without the skin was the food that I should eat. They made me eat as though I was an adult woman. They really didn’t want to allow me to be a kid. They wanted a little adult, not a child. Everything was controlled. When they would go away, she always made sure that my meals were planned, and she’d ask me what I had eaten to make sure that the babysitter was keeping to the menu.”
“No wonder you developed an eating disorder. I think that I might want to stop eating if it was that regimented,” commented Joyce.
Willow’s face lit up. “Aunt Joyce, remember I remember when you took me out, I think I was about nine. You let me order whatever I wanted from the kid’s menu and even let me eat an ice cream sundae. There were many days that I would think about that hamburger and fries. It came with a little toy. I kept that toy hidden in my drawer so my mom wouldn’t find it. That was one of my best memories.”
“That was just a normal aunt/niece outing. It was nothing special. I wondered why you were so amazed at the menu and that I let you get the sundae. It was an upside down ice cream cone with a little face on it, right?”
“Yup. Made of M&M’s. They tasted so good. I really liked chocolate; however, it was only a special treat. A few times my dad took me out to get an ice cream cone, but my mother always made a big deal about it, so it didn’t happen often. I will never understand why my mother was so worried that I would get fat. I look at the pictures from my childhood, and I was never even heavy.
“Your mother was always worried about her weight when we lived together. She became fixated on the “Freshmen 15” and her worries that she would not be slender. I asked her once why she was so fixated on it. She told me that boys didn’t like plump girls. I am guessing it was something she got from your grandmother. Did you ever meet her?”
“I think so, but I don’t really remember. When I first started living with them, they brought me to see a lot of people. I can sort of remembering everyone talking about what a wonderful thing that Ira and Sheila were doing. Taking in this ‘poor child’. Somebody told me that I should be grateful that they ‘saved’ me, and I should be a good girl for them. I think that everyone wanted to make sure that I knew I should be grateful. Knowing that someone who doesn’t have to take care of you, chooses to take care of you makes you beholden to them. Most bio kids don’t have to be thankful for their parents ‘getting it on’, but adopted kids are supposed to be so thankful for being “rescued” from bad situations. I wasn’t thankful, I’m not thankful. They made my life hell.”
“They should be thankful for you, not the other way around.” Tara took Willow’s hand and squeezed. “ I know I am thankful for you. You kept my head above water. Knowing that you were in the world and I would find you somehow kept my hopes up. I am so glad you are in my life. I thank the goddess daily for guiding me to both of you.” Tara looked at Joyce.
“I had no idea that it was that bad Willow. You always seemed happy when I saw you,” commented Joyce.
“Sure, I was always so happy to see you. You did fun things with me. You treated me like a kid. I think that the only kid things I ever did were the few times that you came to visit. My parents didn’t take me to Children’s Museums. They thought that they were a waste of time and money. No, we went to Art Museums or History Museums. They went away a lot too, I spent so much time with babysitters, and a lot of time in my room either by choice or by order.”
“Your parents ‘ordered’ you to spend time in your room?”
“Hell, yeah. I don’t think that you ever noticed, but the lock on my door was backwards. When I’d have one of my so called “rages”, I be sent to my room and they’d lock me in. They got the idea from one of the ‘therapists’ that they sent me to. The message was always that I was troubled. They were doing what they had to do to control me. Sometimes the babysitters would take advantage of it too, and just lock the door so that they could do whatever they wanted to do without my bothering them. That is one of the reasons that I started really hoarding food. Who knew when I’d be let out. I needed to have something if I got hungry.”
“Willow, what you are describing is neglect and abuse,” commented Tara.
“It was my normal. They got in my head and convinced me that it was all my fault. It was because I was “raging” or “out of control”. Willow used air quotes. “Sure, I did have a few doozies of a temper tantrums, but it usually happened when I just couldn’t take it anymore. I wanted to stand up for myself. I wanted to gain some control. As I got older, I didn’t even care if they locked me in my room. I had my books, and my computer. I had learned to entertain myself; I didn’t need them.”
“This is making a lot of sense. Oh, Willow I wish you’d been able to talk to me about this. I feel so bad. Maybe I could have done something about it,” remarked Joyce.
“No hard feelings, I didn’t know to tell you. As I said, it was my normal. I’ve never told anyone about this stuff. I guess there were some good reasons that I was so mad; that I had difficulties trusting people; that I fell for the first person other than you who paid attention to me. Being on that traveling team gave me so much freedom. I was spending time with kids around my own age. I was doing something that I enjoyed, and I was away from my parents. It was great. I felt in control.”
“A lot of it was about control,” mumbled Tara.
“Yep, isn’t it almost all?” Willow stood up. “I think that was enough for now, eh? I think I have shared enough, let’s get these dishes done.” Willow grabbed her plate and Tara’s and went to the kitchen.
“And the wall goes up,” commented Tara to Joyce. “She shares all that info, and then pulls it all together again and seems fine. She is really good at quickly wrapping herself up and turning off her feelings, intellectualization at its very finest. You notice that she was able to tell us all this stuff in a matter of fact manner; no feeling. I would have been stuttering, and possibly crying. I don’t think I could give you my childhood so succinctly. Her feelings and thoughts are totally separated. It is a skill that has served her well in the past, but I’m pretty sure that it won’t serve her well in the future.”
“What won’t serve me well in the future?” asked Willow as she re-entered the room.
“Your separating your thoughts and feelings, or should I say, staying in your thoughts and ignoring/denying/repressing, pick your word, your feelings.”
Willow looked surprised at this comment. “I express my feelings. I tell you all the time I love you. I tell you the things I like…” Willow all of a sudden sounded like a little kid.
“I know sweetie, I guess I was talking more about your ability to express the more ‘negative’ feelings, like anger, sadness, and fear.”
“I don’t like those feelings,” commented Willow continuing in her younger self.
“We know, “said Joyce and Tara.
***
Since returning from Joyce, Willow had a frenetic energy that made her seem to be bouncing off the walls. She’d sit down, and then stand up to get something. It took her forever to figure out what clothes she wanted to wear. First, she put on sweats and a tee-shirt, but then she said she was hot, so she changed into shorts. Then she said that she was cold, and she went and got socks. It was clear that Willow was jumping out of her skin. Tara had finally been able to get her to settle down by asking her if she wanted a head rub. Tara encouraged Willow to put her head in her lap. Tara began lightly touching Willow’s head. Once again willing her brain to settle down. Tara could tell that it was taking all of Willow’s concentration to not babble. Tara could almost feel the babbling ping ponging between Willow’s ears. Tara rubbed Willow’s temples and sent calming thoughts. She made a shushing sound. When she could sense that Willow was returning to her baseline, she asked, “So was that the stuff that was bothering you yesterday?”
Willow paused, “Not really. I guess a little. I was thinking about how Ira sometimes unlocked the door without my mom knowing. He knew that it scared me to be locked in there. Maybe I was thinking about how he didn’t stand up to her. Everything he did was really passive, never active.” Willow took a deep breath. “I know I was spaz Willow ten minutes ago, but I think it was hiding emotionally spent Willow. I am feeling really drained.”
“That isn’t a feeling really. Do you know if it is happy, sad, scared, angry, disgusted?”
“I don’t know Ms. Maclay.”
“Come on Willow, I am not trying to go into pre-school teacher mode. I just was trying to help you label your feeling.”
“I know. I guess that it is easy to go into defensive Willow. Sorry sweetie.” Willow moved up to kiss Tara.
Tara knew that Willow was trying to divert the situation and not answer the question. She gave Willow a quick kiss, and said, “No more until I get an answer.”
“No fair,” replied Willow trying to pout and look cute. She realized that Tara was serious. Tara could see the wheels moving around in Willow’s head. Her eyes looking left, trying to figure out what she was feeling. “I am feeling sad. I don’t like feeling sad. Now I get Tara kisses.” Tara was aware that the guard had gone down and then back up again. It’s late. She’s emotionally spent, let’s just enjoy being together.